Gold
by Mikael-Macbeth
Summary: XXX Sequel to "Confidence"; XigDem Romance XXX Demyx didn’t even bother to look up, but he could tell undoubtedly that Xigbar was smiling, too, as he wrapped his own carved-up arms about his waist. “…I want this.”
1. Part I

**AN: Originally, this was going to be a oneshot, but then it got huge, and I divided it into two chapters. D: For those of you who read the first one, my writing style is a little different (a little more grown-up, maybe?). And if you haven't read "Confidence," please do. C:**

**This is the sequel to "Confidence" that I thought to write, and, guess what! I finally did! I got inspired by a fic on Livejournal called "Hot-Blooded" by an author named ronsard. It's reall great! I had trouble, though, figuring out a title. I worked with "Temptation" for a while, because it was going to be just one huge smut-fest, but that didn't work out. Then I worked with "Scars" but worried it would sound like an emo-fest. XD**

**So I settled on "Gold." I'm pretty proud of how it turned out! I hope you like the first part enough to read the second. C:**

**_EDIT: I went through and fixed up a few typos, thanks to Karasu for the look-over! --heart--_

* * *

**

Gold 

By Eden

_:Part One:_

For the Melodious Nocturne, it was a "day in, day out" type deal. Joining the ranks of the humanoid Nobodies had made life duller than what he originally remembered from his past life. He could recall, distantly, the thrashing of hot bodies in a crowd, the ache of his vocal chords threatening to give out, the screaming and screeching of fans and guitar alike.

The memories seemed so far-off, now, as he wandered the white-washed walls of The Castle That Never Was with something resembling boredom overworking him. Usually, he had something with which to entertain himself, but upon this day, he found his interests stretched thin. No words seemed to morph into proper lyrics, Heartless extermination was at an indeterminable standstill until Xemnas announced their next target, and the members strayed far from one another as much as possible. It was almost like some unwritten rule that all of the Organization's employees had to observe: interaction is strictly forbidden.

And so Demyx sat alone in the conference room, almost hoping for Xemnas to sweep in and give one of his lengthy speeches about "nothingness… hearts… eternal… darkness…" and so on and so forth. And that was a pretty pathetic hope. However, it wasn't Xemnas who entered the room to cheer the Nocturne; instead, a much more interesting figure arrived.

Greying hair pulled back tight into a ponytail and eyepatch placed oh-so efficiently over his right eye, scratching the scar on his left cheek with a gloved hand, Xigbar strode into the room. Well, more like _slithered_. Xigbar just seemed to walk like that, like he was stalking his prey, unless he was running. Then it looked more like the awkward staggerings of a wounded antelope with a stick lodged up its hindquarters.

Anyway, it was at this moment that Demyx sincerely wished he could disappear. Well, duh, _portalling_, but it would much too obvious, what with the poof of black and purple smoke, which couldn't be missed by even a half-blind man. More like he wanted to just… fade into invisibility, or camouflage himself.

For this discomfort stemmed from the fact that the Freeshooter, the object of Demyx's supposed "affections" (though Demyx knew one-hundred-percent that they were in no way "supposed") had figured out he was such at one certain trip to Wonderland some time ago. After that, it seemed that Xigbar had been distracted and gone wholly out of his way to avoid IX at all costs, perhaps because that one small act at the end of their journey had thrown a wrench into the whole "no hearts" system of things.

Xigbar's single golden eye managed to capture teal, and Demyx froze solid like one of Vexen's ice sculptures (which he made when he _wasn't_ playing mad scientist).

"Hey."

Jaw slackened, IX could hardly grace the greeting with a reply.

"What'cha doin' here, squirt?"

Truly, it was quite the endearing habit of II. "Kid," "lil' dude," and "tyke" were a few other names that Xigbar just adored calling the other members. "Squirt," however, was a new one. Perhaps he had been trying it out on Roxas in the span of his avoidance.

But it was approximately at this time that Demyx realized he was simply staring blankly in Xigbar's _former_-direction, for the older Nobody had taken it upon himself to "voip" to Demyx's seat's armrest. His eye was incredulous.

"Uh, well, y'see, I was just, y'know…" insert a flailing hand-motion here, followed by a stuttered out, "nothing."

II took it as a feasible response, but decidedly kept the conversation moving forward, "Just bein' bored, eh?"

Demyx, as nonchalantly as possible, shrugged as the Freeshooter seemed to perch like a parakeet upon the arm of the marble throne. The Nocturne automatically associated the thought with pirates, which caused the Nobody to suppress a giggle. The mental image of Xigbar in a feathered hat would be enough to even break through Lexaeus' stoic exterior (which was _not_ to be mistaken for stupidity; Demyx would know—he happened to have philosophical discussions with the guy. Just because Lexaeus happened to quieter than the rest of them did not necessarily make him any less intelligent).

"So, anyway, I was thinkin' if maybe you wanted to head somewhere just to hang out for a while? 'Cuz, as you can see, there's not too much happenin' around these parts," Xigbar finally cut into Demyx's picture of the Freeshooter in a poofy shirt hoarding a keg of rum with a pistol stuck up under some poor random Joe's neck.

The very question struck a chord of fear in Demyx. He had mulled over the thought of being murdered by another member once before, but none too seriously. However, Demyx often had a way with twisting his own brain into complicated knots if given just the right amount of seconds. Maybe Xigbar planned to haul him off to some random world, shoot him to little bits, and then dump his body in the ocean of a miscellaneous sewer (though he was pretty certain there would be little left of him to dump anywhere once Xigbar was through with him), all for making him consider the concept of a kiss out of "love." Or maybe, _just maybe_, Xemnas had found out, and had ordered the Freeshooter to do away with Demyx on the grounds that he was a threat to the unwritten rules of Nobody-dom, thus the Nocturne would be destroyed by the very man he felt he adored. _How tragic!_

Yet that very same question raised his eyebrows and had him saying, "Really?"

Honestly, he considered asking for a diagnosis to see if he had the mental condition of split personalities.

"Sure, I was thinkin' of maybe goin' someplace warm 'n tropical for a while, and no one else would be interested, so I just decided to ask you," Xigbar answered, making wide and grand hand-gestures during his lecture. Demyx swore that Xigbar winked at him, but it could have just been a blink.

There seemed to be something more behind the Freeshooter's explanation, however. Of course, as with all of the Nocturne's train of thought, it branched off into a million tiny twigs at that statement at what that "something more" could be. One, he could be serious in his offer: fun in the sun and all that jazz. Two, he had a desperate need to eliminate Demyx as soon as possible, without the repercussions of getting caught by anyone else. Three, he was going to rape him.

Wait, whoa, from where did _that_ little random tangent come? Demyx's mind sure worked in the oddest of ways.

In the end, IX's curiosity got the better of him. Hell, it if meant getting out of this dull, drab castle, Demyx would be willing to have a knife-fight with Death himself.

"Sure, let's head out," Demyx answered before his brain could tap into anymore unknown variables.

Xigbar seemed pleased at this response, for he threw an arm around IX's thin shoulders with a grin, one gleaming fang protruding from beneath his lip.

"Now that's what I like to hear!" the Freeshooter announced proudly, poking a finger into Demyx's chest.

Rolling his eyes and praying that Xigbar would overlook the heat that had begun to flush into the younger Nobody's cheeks, Demyx responded with a small, "Whatever." With a sly grin, II immediately opened up the pathway to the Corridors of Darkness. As they began to descend into the seemingly never-ending chasm, the Nocturne felt himself straying close to Xigbar for some semblance of comfort. The idea that he was going to blast him into bits was pushed promptly to the back of his mind.

"So, what world are we headed to, exactly? I mean, tropical is a good descriptive word," (and, in actuality, was number nine on his list of favorite words), "but it doesn't really explain where we're going," Demyx said after a stretch of darkness had been covered. Though… it didn't seem any different than a few paces back. Darkness had scant few landmarks.

"It's a nice place. Sand golden and as far as the eye can see. And sun? Could melt butter in seconds," Xigbar replied, once again working his broad hand gestures to show that he was totally steeped in seriousness.

"But… what's it called?"

"What's what called?"

Obviously, Xigbar wasn't the brightest of Nobodies at times. Demyx found it oddly adorable.

"The place that we're going to; what's it called?" the Nocturne repeated as he began to see the darkness receding into a dim orange light.

"Agrabah, man. Best place I've ever been to. Trust me, you will love it."

It didn't tell Demyx a lot, really, though he knew he had heard the name before. He had only been on recon missions to the Coliseum every now and again… plus that one time in Wonderland.

…Then there was the "Atlantica Incident," but he preferred not to divulge on that little exploit.

Before long, however, the name "Agrabah" rang a few too many bells as Demyx fell into soft powdery gold sand. The initial thing he did was trip and fall face-first into it. Then he noticed the rancid smell. Then the sweltering heat.

Ugh. Tropical. Ha.

"_This_ is our vacation spot?" Demyx sputtered, wiping flakes of sand from his fact after that dramatic fall.

"Yeah, pretty sweet, right?"

"It smells like camel!"

"It _is _camel."

Around this time, IX had managed to get to his knees. With a glance around, he could see nothing but sand, sand, and (yup, you guessed it!) more sand. He noticed that the sun was slowly moving across the sky and was sluggishly sinking toward the horizon, tipping off that the afternoon was morphing into the evening. It still didn't change the fact that it was still hot as Hell.

And he could also see… _camels_.

_Joy._

There came a clanking and a thud from what appeared to be the only piece of civilization in the center of all this sand; it was just a tiny shack, open and with a counter at the front, with assortments of knick-knacks hanging here and there.

The source of the noise came into view: a grungy little man with a bushy black beard and a gold-toothed smile.

"Ah, visitors! Come, come, see if you buy my wares!" the man insisted, his accent thick and his English broken, yet smooth, as though practiced.

Demyx clamored to his feet as the Freeshooter sauntered over to the vendor, his greying hair swishing back and forth with his swaying stride. Demyx caught up to him, asking, "You don't know that guy? Don't you have the Corridors take you to the same place each time you come here? I mean, isn't that the smartest idea? And, I mean, don't you even know where we are?"

"Nope, on all four counts. I like to try new places, so I just dumped us wherever," Xigbar answered, shooting a smirk over his shoulder.

Oh great, they were probably lost before they had even begun. Still, the Nocturne stayed back, so as to allow Xigbar to do all the talking with the vendor, who had shuffled to the front of the counter expectantly.

"Hey, listen, we're travelin', and I was thinkin' it would be cool of you if you could give us one of those camels so we could get to the city which is…" a pause, in which Xigbar crossed his arms and applied pressure to his left leg, his hip jutting outward, "which way again?"

The vendor blinked, his mind trying to keep up with Xigbar's odd dialect, but it managed to process.

"North, straight that way, my friend" he answered, poking a grubby gold-ringed finger in the direction of which he spoke. "So, you buy camel?"

At this thought, Demyx cringed. _There was no way in Hell_.

He tapped on Xigbar's shoulder, breaking the rule of staying out of the conversation, and the older Nobody turned his neck back immediately, his eye on the Nocturne attentively. In a whisper-hiss, Demyx explained his qualms, so the little grungy man wouldn't overhear and be hurt. Demyx was considerate, if anything else.

"Please, Xig, can't we just go by Corridor, to a place that you already know? I mean, it'll be so much faster, and, I mean…" and here his voice hissed with extreme emphasis, "…those camels _stink_."

With a "pft," Xigbar rolled his eye.

"C'mon, little man, half the fun of this trip is the travelin'! And, I mean, we use those Corridors _way_ too much. We should totally learn how to rough it out in the wilds on our own."

"But it's so _hot_."

"Dude, your element is _water_. Don't be such a wuss."

And with that, the argument was over. Case closed. Xigbar had won, undoubtedly.

…As if Demyx could win, anyway.

The Freeshooter turned back to the vendor, who had contented himself with straightening all his random little items on the counter. He broke into a golden smile.

"Ah, my friend, so what shall it be?"

"We'll take one."

"Why not _two_?" Demyx cut in, but was promptly ignored.

"Ah, so one camel? Payment?" the vendor continued, also obviously ignoring IX. Boy, it sucked to be young.

"A poem."

The vendor furrowed his caterpillar-like brows, his thick lip protruding in thought.

"Poem?"

Xigbar put behind his back a hand, and when it was back in front of him, a gun had materialized in his grip, the point of the thing right at the other man's neck.

"Roses are red, violets are blue, gimme a damn camel, or I'm shootin' you."

--------------------

Needless to say, Xigbar's poetry had worked wonders for getting the guy to cough up his best dromedary.

"It _smells_!" Demyx complained for the _n_th time. He wondered which would knock him out first: the raunchy rank of camel, or the overpowering sun. He imagined both would kill him before Xigbar did (or so he kept thinking to himself). Though, perhaps, if he _did_ whine again, II would finally crack and end him once and for all.

However, Xigbar seemed at ease with the head _and_ Demyx's constant complaint. Ugh, how could he stand keeping his robe zipped all the way up, still, after all of this riding? Demyx had long since shed his coat and thrown it over the camel's back for a makeshift saddle, leaving just a teal sleeveless shirt for coverage.

And that was another thing: his butt was falling asleep. His coat cushioned it slightly, but hardly enough to make a difference.

Leaning into Xigbar's back (the older Nobody insisted he be the driver, which was just as well; Demyx would get turned around and lost, simply because the concept of direction hardly existed to him) and attempted to sleep the rest of the trip.

Xigbar, though, wanted conversation.

"You're warm, lil' dude."

Demyx wasn't exactly in a chatty mood, and replied with a venom-coated, "So you noticed."

"Don't be a smart-ass or you're walkin' the rest of the way. Look, why don't you just _make_ some water, since you _can_ do that after all, am I right?"

"_Because_, Mr. I-Know-Freakin'-Everything, I am _dehydrated_. And when I'm dehydrated, I can't magically poof water into existence. I'm tired, my butt is now completely asleep, and this camel not only _smells_, but it wreaks, stinks, and its odor is _nauseatingly sickening_!"

And with that, Demyx banged his head against Xigbar's shoulder blade, not even worrying if he hurt him physically or emotionally, his cheeks flushed with the exertion of complaint.

Usually, IX didn't whine. He usually just put up with crap with a smile plastered to his face. However, one can only take so much discomfort before reaching a threateningly critical breaking point.

Unfortunately, they were perhaps only an hour into their trip, and Demyx's point had been utterly and disastrously shattered.

A long moment of silence mourning the loss of Demyx's patience later, II said, and rather apologetically, "Sorry, kid… Didn't know you wouldn't have fun."

At this one simple statement, a wave of guilt passed over the Nocturne so swiftly that it was like one of Xaldin's spears piercing his gut (which, in all likelihood, would hurt like Hell, but Demyx wasn't about so keen on finding out firsthand). Xigbar had never meant to cause such trouble for the Nocturne, Demyx realized. He could never have predicted this happening in a million years, let alone _one hour_.

"It's… okay," IX apologized, too, after a time, his cheek resting a little more fondly against the hot black leather covering Xigbar's back. He wondered, briefly, if his back had scars matching the one on his face. The thought, though, didn't linger very long.

The camel sneezed, or coughed, Demyx wasn't sure, then Xigbar followed with, "Just relax, lil' dude. We'll be there before long, and we'll find a place to stay. Why don't you take a nap for a little while, 'kay?"

For a moment, Demyx considered the possibility that Xigbar was addressing the camel, but quickly realized that he was talking to him. Thank goodness. At least the heat hadn't gotten to _him_. Xigbar was already crazy enough.

Snuggling into the Freeshooter's back, just a little closer than before, the Nocturne wrapped his arms about Xigbar's waist and, ignoring his numb bum, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep eventually.

Before that time, he swore he heard II let out a sigh that sounded as though it could be exasperated… or joyful.

--------------------

"Hey, dude. We're here."

With a low moan at the back of his throat, Demyx could see that reality was coming back into focus, losing the blur around its edges. The movement of the camel had ceased, but, unfortunately, the smell hadn't.

"C'mon, kid, get up. You're droolin' on me."

Leaning back from Xigbar, he could see clearly a line of saliva dripping down his coat. He quickly wiped it off with a gloved hand.

II jumped down with incredible ease, but turned about to hold out a hand for Demyx to take. The Nocturne, placing his own hand in his hesitantly, was hoisted down gently, aside from the faceplant into Xigbar's chest, which left him breathless and embarrassed. The Freeshooter remained unfazed.

"Alrighty, time to go look for a place to lounge… though it may be difficult due to my lack of poetic muse at the time being," Xigbar announced, scanning about and beginning to walk forward to the wall that bound the city from the outside desert world.

Demyx rolled his eyes away from II as he picked his coat off the camel and held it to his chest. Still, he had to admit, Xigbar had an amazing and unceasing wit. It was definitely one of those traits that just drew him to the older Nobody.

IX complied to the plan, and the camel remained tied to the stall at the outskirts of the city. Good riddance, Demyx spat mentally on the smelly beast. He hoped never to see a camel again as long as he lived. Er, non-lived. Or something.

The two were greeted at the expansive mahogany double-doors by a rough-looking giant of a man with a hardened frown on his face. Demyx kept to himself about that being a mug only a mother could love.

"Outsiders," the guard remarked simply. His voice was made of harsh gravel. He didn't seem at all pleased to allow the Organization members past.

Yet still, it seemed that Xigbar had just the right "stuff" to get them on through.

"Excuse me, sir, but we are the ambassadors… from the other side of the sand. Denial of our entry would be… how should I put this? Extremely calamitous. And I doubt that you would like the consequences if we are not met at the designated time and it is all your doin'. So, if you would, my kind sir, we would be most… unforgiving if you do not allow our passage."

Wow, Demyx had to hand it to the Freeshooter—he knew how to lay down a yarn. IX had never personally seen this done (Wonderland had proved much too loopy for Xigbar to get a foothold on his talents), but had heard extensively of Xigbar's exploits in the way of storytelling. To put it simply, he was legendary. _'He could pull the wool over anyone's eyes,'_ Axel had once remarked. Now, Demyx could see it was true.

The guard seemed to waver in his resolution, his rigid features twisting into something resembling thought. Xigbar's words had been solid no-nonsense.

"Identification?" the guard finally asked, his voice tingeing into triumph, as if he had managed to find his trump card that would win the battle of wits.

"We were sent here without identification, in the case that our mission was compromised. You'll just have to take my word… and consider the repercussions of denying out entry," the Freeshooter replied coolly, prepared, fangs protruding like those on a cat who had won victory over his mouse.

By now, the guard was sweating, stumped, defeated. Geez, leave it up to Xigbar to scare a guy twice his size and three times his weight. With nervous grandeur, the guard stepped from the center of the doors and off to the side, giving a regretful bow to the two Nobodies.

"Enter," he said shortly.

Without a moment's hesitation, II pressed a hand to the door and shoved it open, Demyx trailing swiftly behind. Once into the city, Demyx realized he had been refusing to draw breath, so he quickly released his lungs and gulped down new air.

"Boy, he sure was a talkative fellow," Demyx commented once the entrance had been shut behind them, followed by an awkward chuckle.

"Smart, too," Xigbar added jokingly, his golden eye passing over the crowd into which they had plunged. "Let's just hope we never see his lovely face again."

It seemed that the rushing business hours were drawing to a close, for as they sauntered on through the city, vendors left and right were attempting to strike deals with anyone relatively close to their stalls, including the two Nobodies, as urgently as possible. Several times, Demyx found himself distracted by the oddities presented.

"You, gentleman!"

"…Who, me?" Demyx questioned, stopping short and turning to a man half his size and twice his age and skin-tone.

"Yes! You buy my horned-toad aphrodisiac, you become popular, yeah?"

"Your—what?"

"Get movin' Nocturne," the Freeshooter cut in, grappling by the shoulders and rushing them along the packed street. Briefly, IX wondered if this was what sardines felt like all shoved in that tiny can."

"But, Xig, he wanted to sell me something—"

"They _all_ want to sell you something, lil' dude. Besides, I doubt you'd want what he was sellin'," Xigbar answered, giving a small chuckle and smirk.

"What _was_ he selling me, anyway? I couldn't understand what he was offering."

"And you don't need to."

"Why not—?" but Demyx found he was cut off once more by a loud voice and a tug on his sleeve.

"Traveler! You stay in room for the night! Warm bed, good sleep, service—"

"We'll take it," II answered for Demyx, holding the younger nobody firmly by his upper arms from behind, almost protectively form the man who had _dared_ lay a hand on the Nocturne.

"Ah, good, good! Come, I take you!" the man responded with glee, motioning to the two to enter the door behind him. The three treaded up the shoddy, chipped stone steps and were eventually met with a large, open room. One wall was open, halfway down from the ceiling, to reveal the bright and sandy city and the blue sky outside. Pale mauve cloth hung down to act as curtains. The only important feature of the room was a mat of blankets that served as a bed.

"You get water by the well out door downstairs. Feel free to go wherever you wish during the day. Have a good time with your stay, travelers. Pay by morning," the man bowed with a grin, emphasizing that last bit about the payment. And with that, he turned on a heel and trudged back down the steps.

After a moment, Demyx grinned, crossing his arms about his midsection.

"Got another poem?"

The Freeshooter, however, remained nonplussed as he sprawled out onto the "bed" and took a small, tweed coin pouch from his sleeve and tossed it beside him.

"Nope," he answered smugly with a grin, canines gleaming.

"How—How did you pull that off?" Demyx questioned, sincerely astonished.

"Please, in a crowd that large, it was more than a breeze to pick off that little thing."

Demyx shrugged, discarding the hot black robe he had held like a pacifying blanket the entire time of their traverse through the market beside Xigbar.

"Man, it's hot," he commented casually, plopping down on his robe and wiping the sweat from his brow with a gloved hand.

"How about we rest a little bit, and things'll be a little less hectic at night once all the shops are closed up. Besides, it looks like you could take another nap," Xigbar replied, sitting up and turning from the younger Nobody to unzip his coat and kick off his boots.

"Yeah… Yeah, that sounds like a plan," Demyx answered, averting his eyes as the Freeshooter's robe slipped off his shoulders. He tugged off his own boots with shaking hands.

The two wiggled into their places, not even bothering to cover up due to the scorching heat, as far from one another as possible. Demyx tried not to think of Xigbar's skin as he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Part II

_Disclaimer: I own as much as any fanfic writer. Also, this is XigDem romance. Don't like it, read again and again until you do._

**AN: Thanks again to my dearest Karasu for the proofreading!**

**Now, I had a bit of a crisis whilst writing this, because the part of me that wants to keep everything the way it's put in the game (you know, Nobodies have no hearts and all that) got in the way. However, it's Disney. And Disney is all about magic and stuff. _They had hearts after all!_ And besides, I see Demyx as the type to rebel against this idea.**

**So, enjoy part two! C:**

**

* * *

**

**Gold**

By Eden

_:Part Two:_

The late night was still, and if Demyx could have guessed, it would have probably been the very center of the night. Still, street urchins were meandering through the alleys in search of scraps and vendors were scuffling through their wares to prepare for the daytime hours of the market rush.

The two slipped out the door and into the humid darkness (and for a moment, the younger Nobody had remembered his extreme thirst and had thought to get a drink from the well, then thought better of it and feared getting a disease, even if he wasn't sure if Nobodies could get sick in their nonexistent state). Demyx was still in just his teal shirt and Xigbar had re-garbed his robe. Demyx had kept his eyes turned from the other Nobody the entire time he had redressed himself.

"So… where are we going?" Demyx finally questioned, his voice still slightly groggy with sleep. Xigbar had shaken him awake so roughly that he had felt his neck crack in several places. He prayed that Xigbar wouldn't use that same tactic when disposing of him. _If_ he disposed of him. That was still to be seen.

"There's this sweet little underground pub that I'd like to show ya. Got the best drinks and entertainment in all of Agrabah. It's only open at night, so sorry for wakin' ya up, but I just had to get you here. Hopefully, they won't think you're underage," Xigbar answered, ensuring that his arm was fastened around IX so their movements wouldn't be hampered by the younger Nobody's near-sleep-walk. "Trust me, lil' dude, you will love it."

Huh, where had Demyx heard that before?

Ugh, he was too tired to think about it and let Xigbar tug him along.

After a few more minutes of traversing, the two finally reached a small wooden trap door on the ground shoved up against the side of a building. Demyx never would have noticed it if the Freeshooter had not stopped him in his tracks with, "There it is, Nocturne," and pointed to the thin outline of the entrance. Releasing his hold on Demyx's shoulder (which caused poor IX to stumble and flail for a moment) Xigbar strutted over to the trap door and yanked on a golden ring, the sand sifting out of the way and the hinges creaking angrily.

"After you," Xigbar spoke sweetly, bowing for Demyx to move on down the steps and into the dimly lit chamber.

For a moment, Demyx considered the option that this wasn't a bar at all, but a place that would surely prove to be the pathetic little Nobody's demise. However, the soft lilt of music drifted out of the opening, and IX decided it wouldn't hurt to be just a little more curious. He wasn't dead (or whatever it was that Nobodies were once they were terminated) yet, that was for sure.

The door banged closed behind Xigbar as he followed Demyx down the steps. The smell of smoke and incense floated under their noses, and after descending for so long, the Nocturne was met with a sight that he thought only existed in all of those odd adventure movies he had sometimes found himself watching in his spare time. There were knee-high tables, all surrounded by cushioned pillows upon which the patrons were seated, set out all around the barely-lit room, each one holding upon it a candle which burned multicolored smoke. A stage was set up at the back of the room and several scantily-clad ladies (and a few men, surprisingly) were dancing to the high-pitched music traditional to any Arabian setup.

"Ah, you must be guests. Please, have a seat and I shall bring you a drink," Demyx heard beside him in a rather smooth and pleasant accent, and he turned to see that a tall and tanned man with delicate features had addressed him. Rather androgynous, IX thought to himself, but it was obviously a man voice-wise.

Grasping Demyx by the shoulders, Xigbar led Demyx on to an unoccupied table at which the two of them sat across from each other.

"So, you like it?"

Demyx nodded earnestly, his eyes darting about to take in all the sights so as to never forget them. He had to admit, the joint had a wonderful atmosphere, and it wasn't as hot as the rest of the city, thankfully, perhaps due to its underground status. The song changed to something a little slower and the dancing ladies (and men) changed the pace of their steps.

Finally, Demyx's eyes settled back onto Xigbar and he noticed he had been watching him with an inquisitive golden eye. Nervously, he attempted conversation with, "So, how'd you find this place?"

"I was just lucky, I guess. Recon mission, and I had finished up early. I decided to have a look around, and I tripped over something. Turned out to be the handle that opened the door," replied Xigbar, resting his back up against the wall. "Farqui, the guy who greeted you, gave me a free drink and everything. He'll probably do that again, since you're new here, too. Nice fella."

Demyx grinned as a dull bronze goblet was set before him by a slender, ringed, and braceleted hand.

"Drink, newcomer. Enjoy for free."

Xigbar smirked as he got his own drink, which he gulped down like his life depended on it. Demyx, however, eyed the liquid a little suspiciously.

"…What is it?" he asked, leaning in to get a better look.

"Doe'n't matter, it's damn good," Xigbar replied, motioning to Farqui to get him another round.

Demyx gingerly held the goblet and took a swig. Sweet, with a bitter aftertaste… but it was as Xigbar had put it. _Damn good_.

He swallowed the rest of it down as the next song started up, and by the end of that next song, he had already had three more.

"You know… Xig, I don't think that I get the respect I deserve," Demyx complained drunkenly. Xigbar had had way more than him, and he was still completely sober. Maybe the younger Nobody was just a lightweight. Either way, whatever the Hell it was that had been in his cup was getting to him. Xigbar listened, an amused smile gracing his lips.

"Really, now?"

"_No._ I think that—" a hiccup "—I think that Xemnas is _intimidated_. Really, he just—ugh, he's just so, you know… _you know_," though not even Demyx knew where he was going with this. His brain was much too slovenly to really begin to grasp what was going on.

Xigbar was about to continue the conversation, just to tickle his own fancy, but was interrupted by Farqui tapping Demyx on the shoulder and saying, "How about getting onstage and dancing? Dancers are leaving now, but business is still going. We need entertainment."

Before the Freeshooter could prevent IX from completely making a dimwit out of himself, Demyx had already given a nod and was bounding on toward the stage. He landed on the stage and a crude kind of spotlight was thrown onto him.

"Hellooo! It's good to be here!" Demyx shouted, and Xigbar could be seen folding his hands over his face. "I'd like… to dedicate this song to a… _special someone_. Yeah, you know who you are," Demyx finished up, giving a wink in Xigbar's direction.

All eyes were on the Nocturne now, and a few gave cheers of approval as the music started up and Demyx began gyrating his hips to the beat. He slipped off a glove, then another and threw them behind him. A wave of whoops shot through the crowd as Demyx stepped into it, working his shirt off his body, the spotlight following his every movement. Of course, his mind had all but given out at this point.

He waded through the crowd, remembering somewhat that he had done this in his past life, and hands reached out in worship as Demyx made his way to where Xigbar was seated. For the first time ever, there was not a trace of mockery in that golden optic as it took in the sight of Demyx wrapping his arms about the older Nobody's neck, his legs draping seductively about his waist. The Nocturne smiled sweetly as Xigbar's face began to blur, and he leaned close.

"_Nnngh, love you, baby_," Demyx whispered before collapsing, completely exhausted, upon Xigbar's shoulder. He was out cold.

The Nocturne's eyes parted open slightly, and the first sensation that graced him was the pounding in his head. Ugh, the last thing that he could recall was… well, it was all sort of muddled. He just had the feeling that he had just done something completely stupid.

Demyx looked about him, and could see he was back in the room they had rented. His shirt, gloves, and boots were tossed to the side, and he wondered why. He didn't remember taking them off… or did he? Deep navy blue illuminated with a white undertone shined through the window, lighting up the room enough for Demyx to see a figure gazing out over the city.

Demyx remained silent, his teal eyes staring intently, as he realized the figure was Xigbar, once more his coat shed. However, Demyx dared not avert his eyes this time.

The Freeshooter stood in profile, but Demyx could see more of his back at this certain angle. Greying hair, loosened from its usual ponytail, draped limply over the toned muscles of Xigbar's arms and shoulders. Littered here and there were scars—some deep and whitened, some light and delicate—that flowed over the entirety of II's back and arms. At times, a few traveled around Xigbar's stomach and out of view. It made him wonder what he had seen, what he had gone through, what, in all his years of existence, had made him into the scarred-up Freeshooter, so invincible and great in the eyes of the Nocturne, today.

For a mere moment, the Nocturne's state of mind pertaining to Xigbar—rough, uncivilized, rude, constantly sarcastic—seemingly melted away as he soaked in the sight before him. He looked so calm, so kind, that Demyx completely deleted the concept of Xigbar bringing him here with malicious intentions. Oddly enough, at this very point, after all they had been through in this one day, it was actually the furthest thing from his mind. The Freeshooter just appeared so… _serene._

Yet in that serenity there seemed an unspoken sadness. Now, Demyx had never read that Xigbar was a _sad_ person. There was simply no way! Still, this silence seemed to carry a sort of reflective quality—a spiritual disquiet—that seemed to chill the Nocturne to his very core, even despite the night's sweltering humidity.

Swallowing back uncertainty and pushing back his sweat-matted hair, Demyx managed a small squeak of a, "Hey."

Xigbar neither flinched nor berated at the sound. Instead, he replied with a fairly hushed, "City's really pretty out this window."

Hesitantly, the Nocturne raised to his feet and stumbled over to the Freeshooter, the soft soles of his feet persistently protesting against the hardness of the stone beneath them. He feared for a moment that Xigbar didn't want him near, but II remained stolid in his stance as Demyx pulled up beside him. The once bustling metropolis of this evening was seemingly dead. Even the wanderers and vendors had retreated into sleep. Several hovels were lit up by candles, giving the city an almost empyrean (number six of Demyx's favorite words) feel to it. Like Xigbar had stated, it was quite the pretty sight.

"…How… long have you been up?" Demyx questioned, finally deciding to approach the shell of Xigbar's troubles, hoping to breech the reason of his discomposure.

The Freeshooter gave a quiet, "Heh," and then, "long enough to get to thinkin' about things."

"…Like…?"

"Nothin' important."

Demyx could feel himself sweating, and it wasn't just from the infamous Agrabah heat.

"It… It's important to me."

Xigbar cocked his head now, to face the Nocturne a little more fully, his golden eye glowing softly in the moonlight. Demyx could see now that the scars also congregated heavily on the Freeshooter's chest and belly. The very sight made Demyx's chest—_heart_—ache. In an odd way, he gained the courage to continue.

"I… may be reading too deeply into… all of this, but… it seems like you wanted to tell me something. That's why you wanted me to come here with you, isn't it? You wouldn't want just anyone to come with you, you wanted _me_. And I know that we had a great time down in that bar… though I can't remember everything, but… well, you told me not to read too deeply into things, so I might just be pulling all this out of thin air. So, if you were bothered by what happened in Wonderland and want to put me out of my misery, just do it without all the last-minute fun involved. I mean, I didn't think that you were mad about it, but—"

An index finger gently tilted Demyx's chin upward; the Nocturne had had his head down the entire time. The unexpected contact of Xigbar's bare skin shut him up nearly instantaneously.

"Whoa, whoa, you think that I… want to _kill_ you?" Xigbar asked, gold locked to teal. That fang poked out yet again to greet Demyx with sarcasm in its shine.

"Why else would you bring me here? I mean, aren't you planning on letting me have a real good time before you shoot me up for kissing you and dump my remains in the desert?" IX inquired, his voice edging into panic. He wondered if Xigbar would be kind enough to put what was left of him in the same approximate area of sand instead of separating all the pieces. That would just be rude.

It was around this time that Xigbar broke into a low chuckle in his throat.

"Man, you really are off in your own little world…"

The first thing that Demyx noticed was that Xigbar had removed his hand from his chin and pressed it to the Nocturne's shoulder, causing a shock-wave to run down his spine. The next thing he noticed was that barely an inch separated their exposed bodies. Finally, but of course most importantly, Demyx came to realize that Xigbar's lips were on his.

Demyx cringed backwards from the gesture, his memories of their first kiss flooding back to him. Xigbar did not force him to return.

"Why are you toying with me like this…? Aren't you going to kill me? Don't do this to me if you're planning to destroy me…"

The Freeshooter sniffed, his lips pulling back into a sneer.

"You serious? If I had planned to kill you, I would have already done it. I don't go out havin' a good time with my victims, lil' dude. Are you really so paranoid…?"

The Nocturne managed little more than a shrug. He was so bewildered and flustered that he wasn't sure exactly what he should allow himself to believe. He wanted to believe, however, and with all his might, that someone was actually interested in whether he lived or died, with none of that "no heart" bull-crap shoved down his throat every five seconds. He knew they had hearts—and he wanted that "someone" to believe it with him. He wanted that very "someone" to be Xigbar, and no one else. Still… it was all so hopelessly confusing that the Nocturne could do little more than hand head and hope for the whole awkward situation to just pass him by.

He felt another hand place itself to his other shoulder, pulling him closer, skin touching skin.

"Lil' dude, you've _got_ to be kidding me. You're willin' to let your fears get in the way of what you want?" Xigbar whispered, the usual mockery of his tone dropped.

The words that Xigbar spoke, so softly, almost lovingly, made Demyx's heart—_whatever_—flutter.

"But… you're not going to kill me? You… want it, too?"

The answer came immediately, Xigbar's voice lilting with playful seduction:

"What do _you_ think?"

Before IX could even talk himself out of his next megrim, his arms had clasped on to the other Nobody's torso in a vice-like grip. Demyx didn't even bother to look up, but he could tell undoubtedly that Xigbar was smiling, too, as he wrapped his own carved-up arms about his waist.

"…I want this."

He pressed a finger to a sliver of a scar, a soft yellow in the early morning light, tracing its trail like a map with meticulous softness. The older Nobody that lay on his stomach, his breathing quiet and even, did not even stir. Demyx's digit followed through, picking up the design of another one. To another, they might have been thought of as hideous and ugly things. To Demyx, they were beautiful.

At last, the Freeshooter's golden eye cracked open, and Demyx gave him a soft smile.

"Sleep well?"

Xigbar raised himself awkwardly to his elbows, black and silver hair cascading down his shoulders, and nodded his head, then, "You?"

The Nocturne simply smiled and answered, "Couldn't. I was too busy watching an angel."

"Psht, kid, don't get all sappy-sentimental on me now."

"Can't help it. You were just so sweet."

Xigbar rolled onto his back and exhaled. Yet Demyx still continued tracing any marks available to his fingertips. The feeling of skin-on-skin soothed the Nocturne, oddly. Hell, Xigbar wasn't about to begin complaining. Demyx hit a sensitive spot on his stomach, and II could feel his abdomen squirming for a moment.

"Yeah, well, next time, none of that _cuddling_ crap. Next time, we actually get down to business, if you know what I'm saying," Xigbar mumbled, thoroughly displeased at the aspect of getting gypped out of "getting any." Perhaps next trip, Demyx would give in. For now, though, both Nobodies were content as the sun peeped up over the horizon.

Like all good things, this vacation had to come to an end, though they would have both liked to have stayed longer. Still, there was work to be done back at Never Was, and hopefully, they hadn't been too missed.

The man who had rented the place appeared immediately as the sun had come up all the way, and Xigbar had given him his due payment. The two bolted through the marketplace, though Xigbar agreed to buy Demyx a little something with what remained of the gold in the money pouch.

"But… I'll feel bad if you don't get something for yourself," Demyx told Xigbar haltingly as the seller attempted to con another customer into buying some sort of seashell necklace as he awaited them to pick something out.

"Please, lil' dude, you've given me more than I could ever buy."

Demyx flushed, then inquired, "You… really mean that?"

"Yeah… Now pick something, already."

The Nocturne turned back to the stand, and the vendor having triumphantly sold three necklaces, and gazed over the counter. Something caught his eye, then, and he smiled softly to himself.

"I'll take two of those," he said, poking at the objects of interest.

The vendor nodded, and held out his hand for his money. Xigbar plopped the bag down in his hand, and the seller stared at the heavy pouch with wide eyes.

Xigbar grinned, putting an arm about Demyx's shoulder after he had picked out what he had wanted, and called out over his shoulder, "Keep the change, dude."

They made it back to the gate, in one piece, thankfully (for the vendors were particularly ruthless for a sale on this day), and exited the doors back out to the camel-stall. Ugh, the smell still lingered. But luckily, the guard was nowhere to be seen, so he couldn't bother them with this and that about their mission and such.

"What did'ja get?" Xigbar prodded, leaning in to look at what Demyx was doing. By now, the Nocturne had yanked off his glove and done a small movement. Afterwards, the younger Nobody grabbed the Freeshooter's hand and jerked off his glove, fitting onto his finger a small golden ring. It was nothing special, not at all, but the Nocturne was beaming all the same. Demyx held up his smaller, paler left hand and compared it with Xigbar's rougher, larger right one, his face lit up with the early morning rays.

Chipper with excitement, Demyx asked, "You like them?"

"Of course, kid. They're beautiful…"

II had opened up the portal, and the camels suddenly came alive as they watched the two disappear into it. Into the darkness the two walked, and finally the stench of camel had receded. When they finally reached the end, they were back in the empty conference room. Obviously, they had not been missed at all.

Xigbar grappled Demyx's hand at that moment and held it tight, then smiled tenderly and leaned in to whisper into the younger Nobody's ear, "You really meant what you said, in the pub?"

Demyx's eyes widened. Now that he was a little more aware, memories were a little more fluid, and he knew exactly of what Xigbar spoke.

"Well, I… I mean, that is to say," Demyx stuttered out, and then finished his goofy stumbling and awkward talking with a quiet, "… Yeah."

The Freeshooter pressed his lips to Demyx's cheek, then continued on with, "Then I mean it when I say it, too."

Xigbar didn't even have to say it—Demyx already knew. The Nocturne turned his head, gold clasping to teal, not a trace of regret hindering either of them. Their lips met, and no other words were spoken. The glinting gold of their rings shining side-by-side said it all.


End file.
